


Kill Me...Please

by HMSquared



Series: Based On This Video [6]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Blood and Injury, Cliffhangers, Depression, Dialogue Light, Friendship, Gen, Heavy Drinking, Hospitals, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:22:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26079430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HMSquared/pseuds/HMSquared
Summary: Ethan has been breaking for several months. Never did he think a fucking video game would drive him over the edge.
Relationships: Mark Fischbach & Ethan Nestor
Series: Based On This Video [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1349497
Comments: 4
Kudos: 48





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> https://youtu.be/qrkojBTrgd0?t=1553

Ethan’s cartoon cat tumbled into the sand and he swore. Mark, Bob, and Wade were in the same boat, shouting obscenities as they navigated Bloody Trapland 2.

The formerly blue boy chewed on his lip. He bit back a curse as his character fell again. Mark was chattering about being ahead.

“I want to die,” he squeaked. The others slowly burst into laughter. Ethan shook his head, fighting back tears. “Someone kill me...please.” Bob’s laugh was cut off by another obscenity, and they went back to normal.

He hated their laughs. He hated their jokes and puns. But most of all, Ethan hated himself.

He hated his voice and mannerisms. He hated how everyone saw him as a kid. He hated how no one, not even Mark, saw what he was going through.

The stream dragged on forever. Ethan peppered his commentary with fake laughter, his mind diving into the shadows. As his fingers pressed controller buttons, he considered how to end his life.

The ideas swirled in and out. By the time they said goodbye, Ethan had a plan.

He’d never gotten drunk before. Yet the former blue boy found himself at a bar, ordering shot after shot.

Surprisingly, Ethan wasn’t thinking about it. He wasn’t thinking about going home and downing his medication. He wasn’t thinking about dying, choking in his empty house.

Truth be told, he’d come to terms with it ages ago. He’d become comfortable with the idea of death. And though he’d never admit it, Ethan was actually excited about entering the pearly gates.

Mark. His brain flipped to his friend. He was the one person Ethan cared about, the one person he’d genuinely miss.

Paying for the tab (who knew beer cost that much?), he stumbled outside. Mark’s place wasn’t too far; maybe Ethan could stop by and wish him well.

When the house came into view, he could barely stand. Ethan rang Mark’s doorbell and took a deep breath. Maybe he’d just black out here and now.

Mark was in a comfy shirt and sweatpants. There was a “I’m getting ready for bed, what’s up?” expression on his face, but it quickly disappeared. Ethan crashed into his arms, shaking.

“How much?” He didn’t ask anything else, dragging his friend inside. Ethan shook his head. His eyes flashed around the room, and he tried not to smile. So much opportunity.

“Not sure how…” Ethan trailed off. Mark’s expression turned to one of genuine concern.

“I’m filling up the tub. Can you hold on a second?” He nodded, smirking as his friend disappeared into the bathroom. Everything was going perfectly.

The tub started to fill up. Ethan stood up, drifting across the room toward the kitchen. His fingers tingled.

There was a glass in the drying rack. Hoping Mark wouldn’t hear, he picked the cup up and smashed it against the counter. Glass flew everywhere.

Picking up a largish piece, Ethan found his wrist. He raked the glass across his skin, drawing blood instantly. It was bright red and so...pretty…

“Ethan?” Mark’s voice and footsteps. Ethan dropped the shard, eyes unfocusing. He heard his friend gasp and saw a blob move toward him. Then he went down.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story suffers from an unreliable narrator. Mark is actually very concerned about Ethan and the bouquet isn't the size of the room. But since you're seeing things from Ethan's depressed brain, you get his bitterness.

For a moment, there was nothing but darkness. For a moment, he was asleep. But then Ethan’s eyes snapped open.

He instantly knew where he was: a hospital bed. It was the only explanation. Blinking under the bright lights, Ethan swore.

“I can’t even kill myself properly,” he muttered under his breath. And worse still, he was probably on 72-hour suicide watch. 72 more hours of agony.

There was a giant bouquet of flowers on the bedside table. Roses, lilies, carnations, orchids. Attached to the clusterfuck was a card.

_ This was the biggest thing I could get on short notice. We need to talk at some point, but I won’t bombard you. I’ll stop by later. _

_ -Mark _

Ethan sighed, looking back at the flowers. He was touched by Mark’s gesture but at the same time, it felt empty. His friend was only concerned because he’d nearly died. He didn’t actually care.

When Mark stopped by that afternoon, Ethan pretended to be asleep. The black-haired YouTuber sat there for fifteen minutes, squeezing his hand. Eventually, he got to his feet and left.

He got through the next 72 hours by the skin of his teeth. Ethan plastered a smile onto his face and pretended he was better. Whenever the doctors asked questions, he said he was good. Which was a complete lie.

After what felt like an eternity, they released him. Getting to his feet, Ethan pulled on his jacket. He knocked the vase over on his way out, glass and crushed flowers mixing on the floor.

An hour later, Ethan was in his closet. A chair stood under the coat rack, a rope tied around the wood. Just one jump and it would all be over.

He didn’t even consider making a video or leaving a note. They’d spend weeks wondering why he did it. Eventually, Ethan would fade into obscurity. His channel would lay forgotten.

Once again, he thought of Mark. He knew how worried his “friend” was. But Ethan didn’t care. He was too numb to care.

The rope wrapped around his neck. Ethan shut the closet door and jumped.


End file.
